Veritas
by Frances Marie
Summary: AU. It's the beginning of the end. (FILE 7 UP - the rescue operation is underway.)
1. File 1: Game Start

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Detective (Meitantei) Conan. All worship Gosho. I'm just warping them temporarily.  
  
There are a ton of Conan fics that deal with The Beginning of the End. Well here's my version; the more the merrier. First Conan fic, multiparter, and to be honest I don't know how good this first part is. I definitely struggled with the writing style and language for this part; the others will be less... misty. Let me know if it doesn't work.  
  
Accurate only up to volume 35, and from there my imagination fills in the blanks. References to volume ten, some spoilers if you're quick enough to catch them. The translations for my references are directly taken from rp's translations; visit her site at http://www.engray.com/randommanga/. Get her scanlations; they're some of the best out there.  
  
==========  
  
Veritas  
  
File 1: Game Start  
  
  
  
He runs as fast as he can with the legs and breath of a child, stopping only at the tall fence of plastic wire. Unhesitatingly he pushes his small hands against the fence and the wire creaks and yields to form a hole big enough for a small and skinny form. He squeezes through, drops to the ground to listen for a moment, and takes off running again.  
  
He runs with purpose, knowing exactly where to go. And soon his vision finds what he had been expecting to see. He pauses, several feet away, his fist clutching a wrinkled slip of paper.  
  
She leans patiently against the concrete wall, relaxed, her hands tucked into the pockets of her black coat, watching him without surprise. The silence lingers heavily between them, interrupted only by the occasional creaks of the metal roller coaster above them as it settles down for the night.  
  
The words etched into the metal read, The Tropical Land Mystery Coaster.  
  
"Let us play a little game."  
  
Eyes slant at him, casual and dangerous. She observes him. "What is it that detective Kudo used to say before he disappeared? Like a mantra or a catchphrase. A slogan." Her tone is lazy. "I can never remember."  
  
And now he knows as fact that she knows about him and is afraid. But he will never show his fear. He stares up at her, cursing his height, and says clearly, "There is only one truth."  
  
I will finish you. I will end all of your games and your deceit. I will win.  
  
"Is that it?" She looks amused and he hates her for it. "One truth..." She laughs quietly and mirthlessly. "What is truth but merely what society deems to be right? Society's line between right and wrong has blurred. How can there be only one truth?"  
  
She does not wait for him to answer. "For there to be truth, there must be lies. Lies are necessary to truth. They go hand in hand, side by side. Truth. True. If a liar believes his words to be true, is it not truth? His own truth?"  
  
Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He knows every word she utters is deceptive, and with that knowledge he fights the confusion she brings. Think. He knows it's wrong and does not know why.  
  
"No." He speaks suddenly, aware of his limitations, as she leans against the wall. "Truth and lies are not the same." His voice is the weak one of a seven-year-old. Think. "People create lies to hide what is true. But the truth is always there to be found, unchanging. There is only one truth."  
  
"Ah, cool kid, that's a lovely thought. I expected no less of you. But tell me, who decides what is true and what is false?" The corners of her mouth turn up, but not enough to be called a smile. "People do. People create truth." Her expression is cold, remembering. The moonlight glints off the lenses of the glasses he knows she doesn't need.  
  
But he doesn't need them either, and the weight of them is heavy on his face.  
  
"People are flawed, selfish, cruel," she continues. "Truth is honesty, clarity. There is no one truth. Each person has his own truth, his own lie to exist within.  
  
"What lies are you living, Conan Edogawa?"  
  
"You should know." He answers with steel in his tone and bitterness creeps into his voice, though he tries to stop it. Don't reveal your weak points. "You caused them."  
  
The smile widens. "Really." She stands straighter.  
  
He no longer tries to hold back the threat in his tone. "You're one of them. One of the Black Organization. You've killed people." He pauses. "And I'm going to stop you."  
  
All cards are on the table; why pretend any longer?  
  
The eyes narrow for a fraction of a second, then she is smiling in mock- geniality once again. "So you'll try," she says, cheerful. "Yes, do try. Your sweet angel will want to help you, I expect."  
  
His anger mounts despite himself. "Leave Ran out of it."  
  
"Oh, that's right, I remember now. She doesn't know about your strange secret, does she, cool guy?" she says swiftly. "Lies come in many forms. More than one truth, more than one lie."  
  
You are a liar.  
  
"If you hurt her --" He struggles to steady his heartbeat, to remember that he is now ten years younger, that she is more than twice his size.  
  
"You have placed her in a very compromising position," she muses. "If she really had no connection to the Organization, she would be safe. But your lie, the lie she is only vaguely aware of, has put her in danger."  
  
"She doesn't know anything," he says quietly.  
  
"We must not let our imaginations wander." She punctuates each word carefully. "The Black Organization only removes those who stand in its way."  
  
"Then everyone stands in your way. Everyone who knows about you dies." He is both general and specific, emotional and clinical. "You manipulate and control people, then kill them when they're no longer useful." His unchildlike expression tightened. "They can kill you too, can't they."  
  
She chooses not to answer. "You have choices. Live your lie and keep her safe. Follow your principles and sentence her to death."  
  
He is silent, clutching more tightly the now-balled slip of paper.  
  
"But there is always another choice."  
  
He is sullen. "And what if I don't want to hear it?"  
  
She laughs again, seemingly pleased with his disobedience. "Oh, you know it already. Whether I say it or not, you've thought of it."  
  
"And what have I thought of?" he replies roughly, impatiently.  
  
She gazes at him, incongruous. "You can disappear."  
  
For a moment, the park is still.  
  
"You can disappear," she repeats, "and be happy. With your morals and your principles and your truth, you can disappear and keep them whole."  
  
He pushes his sliding glasses back up the bridge of his nose, a learned habit. "Thanks for being concerned about my welfare," he comments sardonically, "but I'm not going anywhere."  
  
I hate you.  
  
"Leaving or knowing nothing would be the only ways to save yourself and the ones you care for." She is unconsciously condescending, the raven's warning of imminent demise. "The latter was blundered. The former" and she smiles almost majestically "-- is a preferable solution. You keep your precious beliefs in justice and honesty. She keeps her life."  
  
It is his turn to smile. "You're offering me a peace settlement? I didn't know the Organization was into diplomacy."  
  
"Use your brain, young detective. I'm giving you one irretrievable chance to quit before you lose. I suggest you take it."  
  
His smile becomes a frown. "Stop playing games. This isn't a game."  
  
"Are you sure about that?" The stare is too piercing. "You and I both enjoy this mental sparring. There is a certain thrill about putting your wits to the test, of seeing how far and how high you can go before you fall, finding whether there is anyone who is your equal. This is the real reason why you call yourself a detective."  
  
He hesitates, then shakes his head vehemently. "I do like the challenge," he admits grudgingly. " But not at the expense of people's lives."  
  
"How noble. But there would be no challenge without risk; no game without the threat of losing. Who plays a game in which everyone wins?"  
  
She is triumphant, but echoing in the back of his mind he hears a genuine friend: 'It was my loss through and through this time!... Good job, Kudo, your reasoning was one better than mine...'  
  
And he intones, reciting words spoken long ago, "There is no win or lose, no higher or lower. There is always.... only one truth." His frown deepens. "Truth is not a game for you to warp as you please. People's lives are not toys to throw away when you're done playing with them."  
  
"Are we back to the mythical idea of truth?" She is unsurprised, although disappointed, and she reaches into her black coat. He visibly tenses. "You're obviously not as quick to learn as I had hoped."  
  
She holds up her hand. Between her fingers is a small, cream-colored pill. "Does this look familiar?"  
  
"APTX-4869," he said dully.  
  
"Wrong," she replies. "This is the newest development of the Organization -- the antidote to that aforementioned drug. Your traitorous scientist has yet to formulate it. Of course," she adds, "it's not finalized yet. This is a test product; it will last for only seven days from the moment of consumption. APTX-4869 was not meant to be reversed."  
  
"I know," he says dryly. He gazes at the tiny round pill clutched in her fingers, his breathing unsteady. The cure --? "And why are you showing me this?" he asks, ignoring the bait about Haibara. "To mock me again?"  
  
Like a magician revealing a hidden card, she reveals a small vial in her palm, and carefully drops the lone pill into the clear vial. "It's not fair to play with an obvious advantage." She seals the vial's clasp and throws it carelessly to him; he blinks and catches it by reflex, dropping the note to clutch the vial gingerly.  
  
The note flutters to the ground, and it reads, 'Find the truth where you lost it.' The note rests on the ground for a brief moment before being taken up by the air again, to disappear forever.  
  
"Seven days," she says quietly. "Can the Great Detective win in seven days? My mind versus yours, my resources versus your own. My truth against yours. Winner takes all.  
  
"The game starts now."  
  
  
  
~ End File 1 ~  
  
  
  
Began: June 3, 2002  
  
Completed: June 16, 2002 


	2. File 2: The White Knight

DISCLAIMER: Characters not mine. All Gosho's. Story mine. All mine.

This is a short file, sorry, next one will be much longer.

I use the Japanese honorifics because there just isn't any English equivalents! Hope this file steadies things a bit after a head-spinning first file. Thanks for all your comments, and additional feedback will be hugged, squeezed, and called George.

==========

Veritas

File 2: The White Knight

Edogawa Conan shuffled slowly down the sidewalk, his shoulders slumped under the straps of his backpack. He was on his way home from school later than usual, and for once walked without Ran beside him.

He was grateful for the solitude. During this one time, this one brief while, he could think properly without having to be fear that his thoughts, not common in a seven-year-old, would be revealed in his expression. He could almost act his age.

But he wasn't thinking of that now. His mind was furiously running through, like snatches of videotape, bits of what had happened only the night before, to be paused and examined, or rewound and replayed. After giving him the temporary cure for APTX-4869, Vermouth had sauntered out of the park and into the night with a careless salute and a "Good luck, cool guy." He had been so dumbfounded that it had never occurred to him until later to find out how she had managed to gain entry and exit to the closed theme park to begin with. He had simply walked back to Professor Agasa's in a daze -- only to be confronted by Ai the moment he stepped through the door.

"I'm surprised to see you alive." Her cool voice had come from the kitchen, and he had found her there, sitting on a stool at the table. Conan would have thought she hadn't cared for his safety at all, but he saw the feet of the usually self-composed woman kicking at the rungs of her stool.

"Ai!" the Professor had admonished, after shutting the door behind Conan. "What a thing to say."

"It's true." Haibara had then hopped off the stool, coming to stand in front of the other two. "I can assume verification that we have been finally found out?"

"You're calm about it," Conan had remarked defensively.

"I've had all evening to imagine the Organization coming down on this place and killing both the Professor and myself," she had shot back, "so I've had time to resign myself to it."

Conan had then climbed into a kitchen chair, fixing a tired glare on her. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"Shinichi," the Professor had said anxiously, "are you all right?"

"Never been better," he had muttered.

"They're closing in on us. They've found us, and now they're going to kill us and all who know." Ai's clinical observations were marred only by the faint note of fear in her voice. "We're dead."

"Will you shut up? You're not helping!"

"I'm giving you the facts," she had retorted. "They'll play games with you first, then they'll destroy you. I'm telling you the truth, and the truth is that no one has ever lived once they decided to kill them." Her face was pale.

Truth, Conan had remembered, feeling startled. Ran's teacher -- no, Vermouth -- had questioned the very existence of truth only an hour before. It made him feel ill, knowing that Vermouth was in such close proximity with Ran almost every day.

"You're right," he had said then, "they are playing games. But this time, I'll win."

Haibara had snorted in disbelief. "We're children now, Kudo, or have you forgotten already?"

"Not for long." And then, finally, he had pushed across the table in her direction, the little vial that held the capsule capable of changing everything. "That woman, the one you called Vermouth, she gave this to me."

"It's a pill." Haibara had stared at the pale capsule for a brief moment. "They can't expect you to take poison?"

Professor Agasa had come for a closer look, peering over his young charge, and Conan had shrugged. "She said it was a cure for ATPX-4869," he had said, his voice steady.

"Shinichi!" Agasa had exclaimed. "A cure? You can return to your real body!"

Ai's eyes had widened considerably. "The cure?" she had breathed. "But I haven't even -- How -- why would she give -- unless..."

"Yeah." Conan had not met her eyes. "But it's not what you think either. It's only temporary, like the one you developed, but this one lasts for seven days rather than twenty-four hours."

"And let me guess," Ai's tone had been deadpan, "you're going to imbibe an untested pill that could very well be poison because you'd theoretically have six more days to try and get yourself killed rather than the twenty-four hours you'd have using my own formula."

Conan had looked at her helplessly. "Well... yes. I mean, probably."

"Kudo, are you out of your mind?" she had snapped.

"What else can I do?" he had fired back. "This body -- Conan's body -- it's too small for something like this! For anything!"

"You can use your head a little, to start."

"Use my --" Conan had started abruptly, staring at her intensely. "Use my head!" he had exclaimed triumphantly. "You're right, Haibara, I should, and I'm an idiot for not seeing it sooner."

"Seeing what sooner?" Agasa had asked perplexedly, setting himself heavily into a chair. "Stop being melodramatic, Shinichi, and just tell us."

"That woman told me that you, Haibara, had yet to formulate this antidote. That doesn't make sense, does it," Conan had mused, eyes bright behind his glasses, "not at all. Because if she knows as much as she insinuates that she does, then it should be blindingly obvious that you've already developed one, it just has a shorter time span of effectiveness than hers. So what's she giving it to me for, when it shouldn't make a difference?"

Ai had then raised the pill for closer inspection, then began to leave the kitchen, the pill still raised to her eyes.

"Where are you going?" Conan had asked tensely. The idea of that all-important capsule being out of his sight was off-putting. 

She had paused in the doorway. "I'm not going to just stand here talking about it. I'm going to test it, obviously." She had scrutinized Conan for a moment then said, "I'm not going to destroy it, but I'm not going to let you take it and possibly kill yourself when right now it's necessary for you to be alive. By late tomorrow I'll know what this is. I'll let you know then." And with a brief nod to the Professor, Ai had vanished into the lab.

And then Agasa had packed him off to sleep in a guest room, and then to school with the Detective Boys the next day. Today.

Without Haibara, Conan reminded himself. He slowly climbed the steps to the apartment. She was probably still in the lab. 

He paused outside the door of the Mouri Detective Agency, listening to the voices inside, particularly Ran's. He changed his expression from grave and tired to innocent and exuberant easily, and took a deep breath. All he had to do was remember that he spent all night at Professor Agasa's to help test out a new invention (that failed), and school was great. What did they do in school today anyway? He never paid attention, not like it mattered.

And he opened the door with a shout of "I'm home, Ran-neechan!" only to freeze in the doorway.

Heiji Hattori was sitting on the living room sofa, looking as if he wanted to punch a hole in someone. Ran was bustling around in the small kitchen making tea, a worried expression on her face. And Kogoro was sitting on the loveseat opposite Heiji silently.

"Hattori?" Conan slipped, then quickly amended his error with an innocent, "I mean, Heiji-niichan? I didn't know you were visiting today."

"Not visiting today, sorry, kid." Heiji was furious and worried. But then he shot Conan, for a fraction of a second, a brief glance.

"Hattori-kun came to tell us something." Ran took Conan aside, then went back to putting teacups on a tray, her confusion audible. "He wanted to wait, though, until you came home."

Idiot, Conan wanted to tell him. She's already suspicious enough as it is. "What's wrong, Heiji-niichan?"

Heiji rose from the sofa, hands fisted. "I came to tell you," he flatly. He was looking at Kogoro, but Conan knew Heiji was addressing him. "Kazuha's missing. And I don't know where she could be."

And for a moment the only sounds in the room were the sounds of breaking china as Ran dropped a teacup on the floor, and the flutter of paper as Heiji dropped a note on the coffee table.

After a stunned pause, Kogoro picked up the slip and read aloud, "Check. White Knight to move."

~ End File 2 ~

Began: June 18, 2002

Completed: June 26, 2002


	3. File 3: The Assembling of Players

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Detective Conan. Stop reminding me.  
  
Well, I did say this File was going to be much longer. And it is much much longer. Consider it a reward for tolerating all of the confusion of this story so far and the weirdness that fanfiction.net has currently been experiencing. Hopefully other parts will be about this length.  
  
I love Heiji Hattori. So I might've gotten a little carried away with him in this File. But honestly, can you blame me? This File is also a bit medical, so get out your textbooks!  
  
Honorifics are used, though I try to limit the fangirl Japanese. Some bad language. Feedback is always appreciated.  
  
==========  
  
Veritas  
  
File 3: The Assembling of Players  
  
After a stunned pause, Kogoro picked up the slip and read aloud, "Check. White Knight to move." He glanced up. "It's typed. You found this...?"  
  
"Kazuha was supposed to meet me on the way to school this morning." Heiji began to pace. Conan noticed that he was still wearing his baseball cap indoors, and was wearing it with the brim to the front. "We had a meeting place decided, in front of this store that's on the usual route. I arrived on time, but no one was there. I got annoyed after a few minutes because I had a test early on in the day and I wanted to be on time, she wasn't picking up her cell phone, and she always yells at me whenever I'm late. So I called her house. I caught her dad while he was leaving for work, but Toyama-han said she'd left for school as usual." Heiji stopped pacing. "Then I ran the route she takes from our meeting place back to her house, found nothing, and came back again to double-check and found that" (he gestured to the note) "taped against the glass of the store window. The manager didn't know who put it there, he was in the back room the whole time."  
  
Ran, murmuring apologies, bent down to pick up the shards of porcelain. "Are -- are you sure?"  
  
Heiji was expressionless. "Dad and Toyama-han have the entire Osaka police force searching for her. They've found nothing. They think she was most likely taken while she was walking to meet me."  
  
"And what do you think of that, Heij-niichan?" Conan asked intensely.  
  
"I think they're right. Whoever took her, they were watching for me too, and they waited until I was gone to tape up the note, knowing I was going to come back. Leaving that note was to let us all know that this is a definite kidnapping." Heiji hesitated. "I keep thinking that I should've gone to her house to meet her instead, instead of letting her walk by herself."  
  
Ran opened her mouth to argue, but her father was already speaking. "But why are you here in Tokyo? Shouldn't you be helping them search in Osaka?"  
  
Heiji looked faintly irritated. "I just told you that the entire force is searching for her. Because this is the daughter of the Head of the Police Department, they'll be thorough, more thorough than in the case of an unknown missing person. It's not done intentionally, but it does happen that anyone will put more effort into something if the reward is greater. And any officer would want recognition from the Head of the Department for finding his daughter. She's not in Osaka."  
  
"I suppose that makes sense," Kogoro mused. "And of course I'll help. She's Ran's friend too." He laughed in what was an attempt at reassuring confidence. "Don't worry, Hattori, she's as good as found!"  
  
Heiji desisted from rolling his eyes heavenward and graciously refrained from sarcasm.  
  
"But why would anyone kidnap Kazuha-chan?" Ran demanded. "That note, it sounded like the kidnapper was playing some sort of game. You can't play games with people that way. I'd want to teach this kidnapper a lesson!"  
  
Both Conan and Heiji flinched at Ran's brewing wrath. "Hey sister," Hattori tried to placate her, "we'll figure that out, don't worry about it." There was almost a malicious glint in his eyes. "And trust me, I'll definitely teach the kidnappers a lesson for you. With one from myself as well."  
  
"If Shinichi were here," Ran said softly, almost to herself, "he would be able to help. He would be able to find Kazuha-chan."  
  
Conan fought to keep the blood from rushing to his face, though he was visibly pleased. Heiji and Kogoro, however, were less than delighted.  
  
"I'm just as good as Kudo is," Heiji protested. "Kazuha's counting on me, not him."  
  
"Stop thinking about that detective freak! He's not worth anything," Kogoro objected at the same time.  
  
Conan laughed nervously. "Uh, I'm sure Shinichi-niichan would be able to solve the case if he could," he said brightly, earning a death glare from Heiji. "But um, he called me once to see if I liked it here, you know, to check up on me, and he told me that the case he's on now --"  
  
" -- is really tough and he can't come back yet," Ran finished for him. She turned away from them, dropping the last pieces of the shattered cup into the dustbin. "Right. I remember."  
  
Her tone was so melancholy that Conan shot a pleading look at Heiji to do something. Right now.  
  
"Hey, don't worry about it so much," Heiji began uncertainly. "Well, yeah, Kudo's an idiot.... but I mean... he told me he's gonna come back... and he meant it, he really did..." Heiji paused in desperation. "But -- wow! Look at the time! It's almost getting dark soon, I think I've spent enough time filling you all in. I meant to do some scouting around... I'll be back later tonight. Don't wait up for me."  
  
Conan stared at Heiji, appalled. That was the best he could do? Conan wanted to yell. And who was the idiot around here?  
  
"What was that?" Kogoro challenged. "You're staying with us? You never said that!"  
  
"Yes I am," Heiji said grimly. "Until I find Kazuha and the ones that took her."  
  
Kogoro looked as if he were about to protest, then gave up. "I'll come with you then."  
  
"No, no," Heiji said hastily. "We need to work as fast as possible. So I'll do the legwork for now. You should stay and... analyze that note. You'll probably be able to find something I've missed."  
  
Kogoro hesitated. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Definitely."  
  
"Well it is true that I have great skills as a detective, and I'll probably figure it out." Kogoro puffed up in pride. "So I guess you're right."  
  
Heiji gritted his teeth and moved to leave. "Guess so."  
  
"Hey boy!" Kogoro said suddenly. "Where do you think you're going?"  
  
Conan froze in the doorway, trying to hide behind Heiji's legs. "I want to go help Heiji-niichan!"  
  
"You'll get in the way," Kogoro said sternly.  
  
Conan bit his tongue in frustration. The pill, he thought fiercely to himself. Haibara has the pill that could end all of this. Just hold on a little longer.  
  
"He won't be a problem," Heiji interjected lightly. "Let's just humor the poor kid. He just wants to help find Kazuha, that's all. Let him think he has a part in it."  
  
"Oh, Dad, just let Conan-kun go," Ran said from the kitchen. "Hattori-kun will take care of him, and he likes investigations. And it's a Saturday anyway. Just bring him home at a decent hour, Hattori-kun, please?"  
  
Heiji grinned. "Sure thing."  
  
"All right," Kogoro conceded gruffly. "But don't screw this up, boy."  
  
"Yes, Kogoro-ojiisan," Conan said obediently, seething, and the two ran down the stairs before either Mouri could change their mind, managing to escape to the street outside the Mouri Detective Agency.  
  
*  
  
"I don't care if you've searched the entire city! Search again! And don't call back until you have something substantial!" Toyama slammed the phone down into its cradle.  
  
"Calm down." Heizo Hattori turned away from the window of the office. "Breaking things and yelling at your officers isn't going to help."  
  
"Heizo," Toyama said, "when you know what it feels like to have your only child missing, then you can tell me to calm down."  
  
"They've found nothing?"  
  
"Not a trace of Kazuha." Toyama sat heavily in his chair, glaring at the phone on his desk. "No suspects, no possible motives, nothing. My daughter has disappeared."  
  
"None of that," Hattori said sharply. "We'll find Kazuha. You know as well as I do that when you don't find something, it's because you're looking in the wrong place."  
  
"Then the wrong place is all of Osaka." Toyama examined his friend more closely. "How is Heiji taking all of this?"  
  
"Not well, of course. When I left to find you he was pacing all over the house, doubtless blaming himself."  
  
"You should have talked to him," Toyama said.  
  
Hattori frowned deeply. "Why? He can handle himself. He's probably off trying to start his own investigation, thinking he can find Kazuha single- handedly." Hattori inhaled harshly. "That's it... Toyama, let me use your phone... Yes, Shizuka? Where is Heiji?... I see.... No, no. Don't bother... Right. I'll let you know."  
  
"Well? Heiji has gone off again?"  
  
"To Tokyo. To Mouri. There's obviously something going on we don't know about."  
  
Toyama reached for the phone again. "Get me the Tokyo police. Now."  
  
*  
  
"Where are we going?" Conan panted, trying to keep up with Heiji's larger stride.  
  
"Just like I said before." Heiji slowed his pace. "Legwork."  
  
"I don't know about you, Hattori, but I'd like to know what I'm searching for," Conan snapped.  
  
"Look, I don't know just yet! If anything, you should know better than me what we're looking for." Heiji clenched his fists, his pent-up distress escaping. "I just can't do nothing, or wait around until something happens. Even if I'm just walking around aimlessly trying to find a lead, it's better than being in Osaka, just sitting!"  
  
Conan fell silent, and the two of them headed into Tokyo's downtown district absently.  
  
"That thing about officers you told Mouri as the reason you think Kazuha's in Tokyo," Conan said frankly after a short while, "is crap. Not that he noticed; it sounded plausible enough."  
  
"Yeah, I know. It's too circumstantial."  
  
"Is there more to this than you told him?" Conan asked curiously. "Not that what you've told Ran and Mouri isn't bad enough... But what was that about me knowing more than you about where to search?"  
  
Heiji gave him a pointed look. "I'm not stupid, Kudo, I have an idea of what's going on."  
  
Conan looked only slightly taken aback. "How did you know?"  
  
"Black opposes white in chess," he said simply. "Though usually white moves first, but who am I to try and uphold the rules?" He frowned. "Were you ever gonna let me know?"  
  
Conan frowned guiltily. "Things only started picking up less than twenty hours ago. I haven't had time to think properly."  
  
Heiji looked disbelieving. "Uh huh." After a pause, "So it's really coming up to the surface now, all of it? The people who shrunk you are speeding things up at last."  
  
"I think they're trying to get rid of me," Conan said soberly. "Check that, they want to get rid of everyone I know. And they want to have some fun while doing it."  
  
"Sick bastards," Heiji swore. "So they know everything?"  
  
"If they don't, they're doing a good job of fooling me," Conan said flatly. And briefly he informed Heiji of the meeting with Vermouth, and the second capsule.  
  
"So you think this new pill might be the cure?" Heiji asked skeptically.  
  
"I don't know. It might be. Haibara's going to call me before tonight," Conan said tersely.  
  
"And they took Kazuha as part of this game, to involve as many people as possible," Heiji continued, tone carefully neutral, eyes on the traffic at the crosswalk as if fascinated.  
  
Conan said nothing.  
  
"We'll find her," Heiji said ardently, turning back to look down at Conan. "And don't give me that look, Kudo, Kazuha's still alive. I know it." He absently fingered the charm around his neck. "If she can say that this stupid thing is the only reason I'm not six feet under yet, I'd better be able to say the same for her."  
  
There was a pregnant pause, as both detectives walked wordlessly.  
  
"Hey, Hattori," Conan finally began, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, "I'm really sor--"  
  
"Don't," Heiji interrupted. "Just don't, okay?"  
  
"But --"  
  
"Because I've realized," Heiji continued, ignoring him, "that Kazuha probably knows now that I've been hiding this kind of stuff from her, so you can save the apologies. You can tell them to me when you visit my grave, 'cause she's gonna kill me the moment she sees me."  
  
There was very little Conan could say to that pronouncement. "... If it helps to know," he muttered, "if Ran ever finds out that I've been lying to her all this time, I'll be lucky if she even wants to look at me."  
  
"I figured you didn't tell her when she started going on about how great you are. She'd never say that to your face if she knew. Although it did surprise me, what with the way things are going. Will you stop being thick already?" He glared at his friend in exasperation. "Even after all this, after knowing things are twice as dangerous as before, you haven't said a word? Kudo, give it up. It's better if she finds out by you telling her than by hearing it from the so-called English teacher." He tried to laugh. "Speaking of the English teacher, we were actually right about that. I can't believe it."  
  
"I know, I know! But I didn't think things would happen so quickly! And I was always suspicious of Saintemillion, but I never had any proof," Conan said crossly. "Do you think I planned all this? I haven't had time to sit, let alone time to think about telling Ran."  
  
Heiji snorted. "I don't believe it. That's no excuse. You've been living with her. You've seen her everyday. It's not like you've never had the chance or the time."  
  
Conan stared at the fast-moving pavement. "Open your eyes, Hattori, would you? Believe me, I've wanted to. Do you think it's easy, telling Ran that I've lived with her for over a year, seen her everyday, without her knowing, while she worries and cries because she doesn't know where I am? You saw that, it just happened! But I couldn't, and I still can't."  
  
"You really do think that makes a difference now, don't you," Heiji demanded. "Reality check, Kudo, it doesn't. Kazuha didn't know anything. Kazuha had nothing to do with any of this, and they still took her." Heiji pulled the brim of his baseball cap lower over his eyes. "What makes you think they won't come after Ran too, when she's lived with you and they know how important she is to you? It'll be worse for her if she doesn't know!"  
  
"Okay! Enough!" Conan said loudly, startling some other passersby. "Er, sorry, ma'am; sorry, sir." He lowered his tone. "You don't have to press the point, Hattori, I get it."  
  
"So you'll tell her?"  
  
"If it gets to the point that she absolutely has to know --"  
  
"Kudo!"  
  
"All right! Fine, you win." Conan shuffled down the sidewalk. "I'll tell her as soon as I get the chance. Really."  
  
A ringing sound came from somewhere around Conan's waist. Immediately he ducked into a less-crowded cross street, Heiji on his heels, and his hand dove into his pockets. He attached his phone to his ear with a pained look at its femininity.  
  
"Haibara? Please tell me you have good news."  
  
"I'll leave it to you to interpret whether what I have to tell you is good or not." Ai's voice was tinny over the phone connection, but still as calm as ever. "I'll have you know that I haven't completed all the secondary tests yet, so parts of my hypothesis are not entirely accurate --"  
  
"Just tell me what you know," Conan interrupted. "Save the details for later."  
  
Ai made an indistinguishable sound on the other end of the line. "Fine, have it your way. I've discovered that the reason both Vermouth's and my own antidotes are temporary is because the body's white blood cells attack any growth-inducing agents that the antidote places in the bloodstream, preventing the final stages of the metamorphosis."  
  
"In ordinary language, you're saying that the antidote gets attacked by my white blood cells, stopping my body from settling into its true form completely and therefore I regress back to Conan. Am I right?"  
  
"Correct." Ai's voice radiated approval. "Kudo-kun, do you know what a vaccination is?"  
  
"Of course," Conan answered edgily. "That's when you inject a weak or dead virus into the bloodstream. Your white blood cells destroy the virus easily and learn to 'recognize' it. If that virus is again contracted, the white blood cells will then be able to destroy it faster."  
  
"Right. Don't you see it now? These antidotes are necessary to each other."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Stop being stupid on purpose," Haibara snapped. "You know exactly what I mean. Think of the cure having to be in doses, similar to a vaccination. The first dose, while it returns you to your normal form, is strictly temporary. Your body will destroy it before the reaction goes to completion and you'll return to your child form, but not before your white blood cells are stamped chemically, causing them to ignore any similar antigens that enter your blood stream for a certain amount of time. That time period, when your white blood cells are ignoring your antigens and you regress, is the time you take your second dosage. The reaction will go to completion before the chemical stamp loses its effectiveness, and the change to your adult form will be permanent and your normal rate of growth established."  
  
Conan was quiet for a time, quickly digesting this information. Heiji waited patiently nearby. "So this really is the cure?" he asked slowly.  
  
"It's a risky one," Haibara replied, "but yes. It is the cure."  
  
"Yes!" Conan punched the air. "Great. When do I take the first dose?"  
  
"You haven't heard a single word," Ai berated him. "Listen to me! The first dose, Vermouth's capsule, will last for seven days, approximately. Wherever you are then you'll regress back to Conan. Then you'll have to find me within two hours to take the second dose. If two hours go by and you haven't taken the second capsule by then, the whole attempt is wasted. There won't be enough time for the reaction to be rendered permanent before the chemical stamp on your white blood cells is ineffective, and you'll turn back into Conan. And don't tell me you can start over and take the first dose again; your body will be in terrible shape after changing form so many times you won't be able to try again for at least two months." Ai's tone was urgent. "Don't you see? With the Organization coming, you won't have two months!"  
  
"Don't worry." The afternoon sun glinted off Conan's glasses. "Nothing is going to go wrong. I'll have my real body back for good. When can I take the first pill?"  
  
"I've been making copies of Vermouth's antidote and taking apart the formula." Ai was a scientist once again. "It will be ready in a few hours. The Professor and I will be expecting you anytime tonight or tomorrow. Neither of us will be sleeping much."  
  
"I'll be there soon. I've got to do some things first."  
  
"Anything concerning the boy from Osaka?"  
  
Conan was taken aback. "How did you know Hattori was here?"  
  
"The Organization knows everyone you know," Ai said flatly. "And the Professor was looking for headlines on the internet. I'd asked him to. It's already splashed all over the Osaka papers, about the daughter of the Head of the Police Department having gone missing. It's not coincidence."  
  
"I know. Bye." Conan quickly broke the connection, then turned to his friend. "I've got news."  
  
Heiji stood straighter. "The cure, right?"  
  
"Yeah." Conan quickly repeated Ai's words. "Which means," he finished, grinning, "Kudo Shinichi is going to be back very, very soon."  
  
Heiji opened his mouth to reply, but there was another ringing tone, this time from his own cell phone. Startled, he took it from his pocket, then stared blankly at its small screen.  
  
"Well?" Conan said impatiently. "Aren't you going to even answer it?"  
  
Heiji's gripped the phone as if to break the plastic casing. The ringing continued, high pitched. "It's Kazuha's phone."  
  
~ End File 3 ~  
  
Began: June 25, 2002 Completed: July 14, 2002 


	4. File 4: Bait

DISCLAIMER: Detective Conan is not mine. This attempt at a story is mine.

All comments are welcome. I'm a horrible correspondent, but that doesn't mean I don't read and love them.

==========

Veritas

File 4: Bait

There was a steady _drip, drip _that rang throughout the quickly darkening room. A short, thick man dressed in a black suit with dark sunglasses and a black hat sat comfortably in a metal folding chair. His revolver was trained almost casually on a young woman that was sitting, her legs drawn up to her chest, on the hard-packed concrete floor.

Toyama Kazuha sat on the concrete, unmoving, trying to ignore the pain in her lower back and temples, and trying not to cry. Her clothes were stained with grime from the floor and what suspiciously looked like blood. Her customary hair ribbon was missing, and her hair fell in matted waves framing her face. She wasn't injured, but she was tired, hungry, scared, and PISSED OFF.

She didn't know who these people were. She didn't know why their flashy black car had driven up and pulled over when she was walking to meet Heiji, on an empty street closed for construction, or why two men dressed in black had stepped out and, when she had refused to come closer, had attacked her with surprising deftness. She couldn't remember much after that, other than knowing she had landed a few blows judging from the curses the men had sputtered and the blood on her clothes, and the nauseatingly sweet chemical smell of a cloth they'd forced over her nose.

After that things were fuzzy.

The man's cell phone rang, echoing throughout the dank room, and Kazuha started. Without taking the point of the gun away from her, he reached into his jacket and clicked on the phone. "Yes, aniki, things are fine here." He talked in a rumbling, low voice, but his words were clear in the silence of the room.

On the other end of the line, sitting in the plush leather seat of a car with tinted windows, Gin said into his own cellular, "Good. Don't get lazy, Vodka. The second she thinks you won't shoot her, she'll knock you out." His lips curved upwards slightly. "Not that we need her alive for much longer."

Vodka nodded, forgetting that movement was not translatable over a phone line, and quickly amended. "Yes." There was a small click as the phone was turned off, and it was easily replaced back in the jacket pocket. The gun was steady.

Kazuha hiccoughed, berated herself for being an idiot, and mustered her courage. "You're going to kill me, aren't you." Even to herself her voice sounded small and hoarse from disuse.

He didn't answer for a moment, adjusting the safety on his handgun, flicking it off with a dull snap. Then he looked at her, sunglasses still on in the quickly dimming room. "Not if your detective friend cooperates," he said shortly.

Heiji! 

Without thinking, she blurted out, "Heiji would never have anything to do with people like you!"

As if surprised by her belligerence, Vodka sat straighter in his folding chair, hand gripping the gun a little tighter and, after a moment's consideration, allowed himself a little fun. "Why do you think you're here?" he said, with carefully hidden relish.

Kazuha froze.

Satisfied, Vodka sat back. Soon the constant plink! pink! of hidden pipes was the only sound heard.

Unthinkingly, Kazuha groped around her neck for the good luck charm, and almost gasped aloud in rage. The small red bag that was always around her neck was gone. They must have taken it -- her connection to Heiji, the one thing they both had.

Breathing deeply, Kazuha mentally shook out of her stunned shock. Heiji wouldn't be sitting here, doing nothing, she thought sternly. Right. Don't let them use you. Think Detective.

The room was damp. Not much light. Pipes. What did that mean? Kazuha fought the urge to lie back and fall asleep. If Kazuha squinted, she could make out grass. Idiot, what does that mean? Basement. Right. Basement... Which means the light's coming from... 

Self-consciously, she craned her neck around and winced at the pain. She must have slept on the packed floor for awhile. The last rays of light were streaming though a narrow, dirty window nearly touching the ceiling. Then it must be late afternoon. That confirmed what she thought: she'd definitely been sleeping for more than a few hours. But she couldn't tell for sure what time it was; she'd run out of the house earlier without her watch.

She had a digital clock on her cell phone, Kazuha thought triumphantly, and she could call Heiji -- then her heart immediately sank. They took the red good-luck charm, one of only two that existed. There was no way they'd be stupid enough to let her keep a cellular phone. Hoping against hope, she tentatively checked her pockets, glancing at her armed guard, who watched her closely. Empty.

"Didn't think we'd let you keep a cell phone, did you?"

She couldn't help but feel a surge of anger then. How dare they kidnap her, rob her, and stick her in this stupid basement? If they thought Heiji was going to do what they wanted just because they had her...

Which he probably would. They were nothing more than friends, Kazuha reminded herself, but of course Heiji wouldn't let anyone die because of him. The noble idiot. These people were going to do something horrible to Heiji, and it would be all her fault, and why would they want him in the first place? Because he was a detective and they wanted some publicity? That didn't sound right somehow.

"What do you want with Heiji?" she demanded, somewhat shakily.

He smiled, suddenly full of triumphant malice. "Maybe you should ask your detective what he has to do with us instead asking me. He hasn't told you?"

The mocking in his voice made Kazuha want to leap up and smack him around. The man in black was lounging on his chair, hand lazily on his gun, on the other side of the room. Too far away. He'd shoot her before she could get to him. She dropped her head on her knees.

Hattori Heiji, you better have a good explanation for all of this.

*

The phone was still ringing.

Conan could feel his adrenaline pump up. "It's them," he hissed almost gleefully. "Kazuha's phone has an address book, and of course your number's in there."

"They probably know I'm here with you." Unlike his counterpart, Heiji was uncharacteristically subdued. He took a deep breath, then picked up the line. "Hattori."

"Hello, Great Detective of the West."

Heiji could feel himself losing control at that cool tone. "Hello, Saintemillion-sensei.... Or should I call you Vermouth?"

She laughed pleasantly. "So you know my secret! Very good, I thought you would by now."

"Where's Kazuha?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Anxious, aren't we. She's still alive." He tone became darker. "Isn't this proof that when you play with the Dark Organization, you play with fire? And everyone you know gets burned."

"If you hurt her, I'll kill you," Heiji spat.

"You're not exactly encouraging me to disclose her location," Vermouth said mildly. "Isn't that what detectives are supposed to do during hostage negotiations?"

"Calm down, Hattori," Conan murmured. "Yelling at her won't help us find Kazuha."

Heiji took another steadying breath. "What is it you want?"

"What is it I don't want?"

"Why you --" He caught himself. "Tell me where to find Kazuha."

"Give me what I want, and I'll give you your girlfriend back."

Heiji didn't bother correcting his and Kazuha's relationship status, and grimaced. He hated having to play along with the person who, as far as he was concerned, embodied everything he hated at the moment. "I won't know what you want if you don't tell me."

Vermouth gazed out of the gray-tinted windows from the leather seats of the black antique car, at the teenager and boy across the street in the alley between two buildings. Her cellular phone was to her ear. Then her eyes moved to meet the eyes staring at her in the rearview mirror and smiled.

Gin looked away, in the front seat. Her smile widened.

"I want to stop time itself."

*

There was a resounding knock at the door of the Mouri Detective Agency.

"They're back already?" said Ran wonderingly, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. Her face brightened. "Maybe they've already found Kazuha-chan!"

"Not likely," Kogoro harrumphed from his place on the couch, still poring over the cryptic note left by the kidnappers. "If I haven't been able to come up with anything, there's no way they'd be able to."

"Have you figured out anything at all?"

"If it's a code I don't recognized it," Kogoro mused. "There aren't enough letters for it to be a code anyway. It's just a statement."

Ran rolled her eyes, and opened the door. "Detective Takagi? Detective Satou?" 

"Excuse our intrusion," Takagi said.

"No, it's all right. Please step inside." Ran quickly closed the door behind them, looking puzzled. Kogoro rose from the couch.

"Is there something you need my help with?" he asked, puffing with pride.

"You tell us," Satou said frankly. "Has the Osaka boy -- Hattori Heiji -- been by here?"

"He just left with Conan-kun," Ran supplied. "He's staying with us for awhile. Is this about Kazuha-chan?"

"He's with Conan-kun," Takagi repeated. "Probably doing their own investigation, huh."

"That's the daughter of the Osaka Head of Department, right?" Satou clarified. "Yes... The entire Tokyo force has been put on alert."

Ran paled. "It's -- it's going that badly in Osaka? They can't find her at all?"

"She was abducted on her way to school, by a construction site early in the morning. There were no witnesses, no clues, no motives," Takagi said gently. "She may have been taken to Tokyo."

"That's why we're here," Satou continued, businesslike once again. "Both of them, Toyama Kazuha and Hattori Heiji, are friends of yours. Did they ever mention having any enemies? Hattori-kun's doing well as a detective, I've heard, could he have come across a criminal that would use this sort of tactic?"

"Hattori-kun comes across a lot of horrible people because of his cases, "Ran said, looking worried, "but I've never heard him or Kazuha-chan talk about any enemies."

Both officers nodded. "That's what I thought," Satou murmured. "All right then. If you hear anything at all, let us know. Ask to speak to either of us at the station. We'll both be there for awhile."

"But I have a lead!" Kogoro exclaimed triumphantly, and brandished the note. "The Osaka boy left this for me to decipher. He found it tacked up to his and the girl's meeting place, coming back after searching for her."

"This is possible evidence," Satou said disapprovingly, reaching for the paper. "Why didn't you bring it to the station?"

Kogoro sputtered incoherently. "Well -- I was hoping -- you know -- he told me --"

"'Check. White Knight to move.'" Takagi read aloud. "What -- this is chess terminology. Someone's playing games."

Satou's brow wrinkled. "And if this note was left by the kidnapper, the kidnapper is encouraging the police or whoever finds this to retaliate."

"And whoever it is, they're planning more crimes," Takagi pointed out. "Maybe more kidnappings?"

"We shouldn't have let the brat and the Osaka boy go off by themselves!" Kogoro snarled. "They could be kidnapped!"

Ran opened her mouth to reply, but whether she was going to speak in anger, worry, or reassurance was never known. At that moment, the sound of gunshots rang through the small apartment as the windows shattered inward from the impact, spilling glass onto the floor. And the sounds of people throwing themselves onto the ground to escape the bullets couldn't mask the sound of a portable transmitter radio's static and the cry of,

"GUNFIRE AT THE MOURI DETECTIVE AGENCY! OFFICER DOWN! I REPEAT, GUNFIRE AT THE MOURI AGENCY, OFFICER DOWN!"

~ End File 4 ~

Began: July 17, 2002

Completed: August 5, 2002


	5. File 5: Finally Getting Somewhere

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Detective Conan. All hail Gosho.

The title of this file sums things up pretty nicely. I don't think I'll have to say much more than that. Language warning.

All comments are welcome. You people guess too well. Maybe that means I'm being too predictable?

==========

Veritas

File 5: Finally Getting Somewhere

"I want to stop time itself."

Heiji pressed his cell phone to his ear, for an instant hoping vainly that he'd somehow misheard Vermouth's words, because at that moment it was like a light had gone on in his brain, and thoughts were flying and crashing into each other in his mind so fast he put a hand against the dirty brick of the alley wall, as if that would steady him.

Somehow it was all beginning to make sense, and he didn't even know the details of everything. If Kudo heard this, he'd be going into paroxysms of comprehension. Again Heiji couldn't help but feel a little slighted, then shrugged off the feeling -- no matter what, this was Kudo's problem first. Of course he'd know more about it.

"What is it?" Conan asked, more than a little frustrated. "What's she saying to you?"

Kazuha first.

"Can't deliver," Heiji said flatly. "I ran out of time in a bottle."

"And your sense of humor is unfailing." Vermouth was equally deadpan. "I wonder if you'd be as cheerful when you find your childhood friend dead."

"She hasn't done anything!" Heiji exploded. "She doesn't even know who you people are!"

Vermouth's voice was cold. "And her ignorance is supposed to be my fault?"

He fell silent. The sun's last rays trickled away, the stars taking their place. One by one, lights were turned on in the city's many windows.

"Put her on speaker," Conan said firmly. "Do it. I want to hear this!"

Wordlessly Heiji clicked the speaker button.

"Maybe," said Vermouth silkily, her voice distorted over the speaker, " she wouldn't be in this situation if you had warned her. Maybe if she had known, she would have been able to defend herself properly."

Conan's expression darkened.

"You're not going to rope me in that way," Heiji said steadily. "Using the same ruse over and over gets old."

"Would you rather I find a new one?"

He ignored her. "We're going around in circles. Tell me where Kazuha is."

"_At night they come without being fetched_," Vermouth intoned. "_By day they are lost without being stolen._" 

"You're telling me RIDDLES?" he burst out. "You're sick, you know that?"

She ignored him. "_I never was, am always to be. No one ever saw me, nor ever will. And yet I am the confidence of all, to live and breathe on this terrestrial ball._"

"How long did it take you to come up with that one? A year? " Heiji snapped.

Vermouth's voice was clipped. "You're testing my patience, Kansai detective... Although I must say, I do admire boldness." She regained her saucy tone. "All kinds of boldness."

"You leave Kazuha unharmed," Heiji threatened. "If there's the smallest mark on her I'll --"

"You'll send your father after me? I look forward to it. After all, he does seem to be the one cleaning up all your messes, doesn't he."

Heiji's face purpled. 

"Cool it," Conan said as softly as possible, not wanting to be overheard. "She meant to touch a nerve, you know it."

"I hope I've drawn a nice little map for you," Vermouth drawled. "For both of you; I know Cool Guy is listening too, even if I can't hear him. Hello, Cool Guy! Send my regards to your little Angel!" Her voice hardened. "I gave you your chance to end this before it began. But you had to be stubborn. So you better move quickly if you want to protect your precious truths. Both girls are getting a bit boring." She paused. "What's with the long faces?"

Hieji and Conan's heads snapped up and away from the phone. 

Directly across the street from them, a parked black car rolled down its tinted window. Even from the distance both detectives could make out a blonde head, a hand waving at them, and clutched in it, a spot of red.

Kazuha's good luck charm.

"I like this one. It's very cute; I think I'll keep it," Vermouth mused from the still-on phone. "Good luck is always useful." Across the street, she exaggerated placing the charm around her neck.

Heiji let out an incomprehensible sound, and spat a flurry of curses.

"TAKE THAT OFF!" he roared, punching the off button on his phone and tearing across the street.

"Hattori, stop!" A small pair of hands grasped the back of his shirt and tugged him to the edge of the sidewalk, just in time. The stoplight turned red, and now cars were zooming down the street. "Idiot," Conan said breathlessly, still holding the hem of Heiji's shirt. "You could've been killed."

Heiji didn't turn away from the street. "You're the idiot!" he snarled. "They're right there!"

"You wouldn't have been able to help by getting run over!" Conan retorted, letting go.

A large packing truck zoomed by, blocking their vision of the opposite sidewalk for a few moments. When the truck finally lumbered past, the black car -- and Vermouth -- was gone.

"Damn it!" Heiji finally went limp. "We lost them."

"Not entirely. Now we know what one of their goals is (or at least what that woman's goal is), and where Kazuha is. Don't you see? It's a challenge." Conan's blue eyes glittered behind his glasses. "We're finally getting somewhere."

Heiji turned to look at his friend. "You'll need your first dose."

"Let's go to Agasa's." 

"I admit, it would be nice to have you at eye level again," Heiji said. "Looking down is a pain."

"And looking up is much better?" Conan looked as if he were about to take off running back to Professor Agasa's in excitement, when the wailing of sirens and flashing lights stopped him in his tracks. "What -- ? "

"Four police cars and two ambulances." Even as Heiji spoke said vehicles charged down the street, other cars pulling aside and switching lanes in a frenzy to avoid them and zooming down the way the two detectives had just come. "Something big has happened, to call in that many."

"But that way --" Conan started, his eyes growing wide. "Ran!"

"H-Hey! Slow down! I thought we were going to the Profess -- Shit! That crazy woman couldn't have meant --"

"Hurry up! The whole time we were just standing there -- they were already --" Conan pressed his lips together, running hard back to the agency, Heiji at his heels.

*

Behind the steering wheel, Gin made an unmistakable sound of disgust as he turned a corner. "Did you enjoy wasting time?"

Vermouth smiled. "It wasn't a waste at all. The Osaka one has too short a temper; it's very difficult to resist teasing him." The side window rolled down with a whir of automatic gears and, after wiping the cellular phone with a cloth, dropped it out the window onto the street. "Now they will come. The hints I gave were very easy."

"It would be easier to just kill them, instead of toying with them," Gin said. "If things continue this way, you'll expose us all."

"Don't you trust me?" she asked teasingly.

He chose not to answer. "We would have acted sooner if you had informed us that Kudo was still alive. You're wasting resources."

"Ah, Kudo would be dead, that's true," Vermouth mused. "But the one you want would still be free. You can't kill her yet, even after we find her."

The car made a sharp turn into an empty parking lot with a squeal of tires, and Gin slammed on the brakes. "Why not?" he snarled, turning around. "You're still keeping secrets. The Organization's orders are to kill the little traitor."

"Use your brain. Even after realizing that what was originally developed as a poison had an strange and rare side effect, no one in the Organization's been able to develop either a guarantee of that side effect or a reversal. She was the brains behind many of the Organization's technological achievements, or did you forget that? She's the only one who can possibly isolate what causes the reverse-aging side effect, since she has two test subjects: herself and Kudo." Vermouth removed the good luck charm from around her neck and placed in her bag. "The best we could develop on pure hypothesis was a seven-day temporary reversal."

"So to con Sherry into developing the full cure you gave the temporary pill to the brat," Gin filled in. "And when we get them, you'll have both the formula and the reverse of it."

"Precisely. So you can't kill her yet."

Gin turned back to the steering wheel, eased off the brake and reentered the streets. "Are you testing my loyalties, Vermouth?" he asked coldly.

"Dear Gin, I don't know what you mean," Vermouth exclaimed. Her voice radiated innocence and light, and meant neither.

"The Organization has given up on the idea of achieving immortality. You seem to have forgotten that. The Pandora Project failed, and we decided to focus on more rational endeavors."

"The Pandora Project!" Vermouth scoffed. "The whole idea was doomed from the start, a reliance on myth and legend. Supporting such a ludicrous undertaking was a mistake. Even if the legends are true, the chances of finding the Pandora Gem are almost nonexistent. I believe Rum is still stubbornly searching for it, even though the Organization has severed his funding."

"Rum is a fool," Gin said bluntly. "And I never thought you would be equally foolish. The Organization won't support your antics for much longer."

"Unlike Rum, I'm very, very close to achieving my goal. And the main body of the Organization is full of doddery old idiots. You know that as well as I do. By the time they catch on, this'll be over."

"Then don't screw up."

She smiled charmingly. "Have I ever done so before?"

"There's a first time for everything." A shrill sound rang from Gin's trench coat pockets. At a stop light, he took out his phone, one hand still on the steering wheel. "Is everything ready?"

Vodka's disembodied voice answered him. "I've left the Osaka girl in the hands of Cognac and her flunkies, and am on my way to the meeting place. They're on alert."

"Did she take care of that agency?"

"... Not the way we'd discussed with her. She shot out the windows. She's not sure how many she hit, but she swears there were cops in there."

Gin cursed. "The incompetent moron! They'll put two and two together."

"I've taken care of things. She won't go anywhere else."

"Good. We're almost at the meeting place as well. We'll discuss things in more detail later."

"Is this Cognac trustworthy?" Vermouth questioned, once Gin had hung up. "I've yet to meet her. She doesn't sound very reliable."

"She's French. Reckless. And dispensable," Gin replied.

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

*

Ran was dreaming. 

She was dreaming that Kazuha-chan was kidnapped and Hattori-kun was in Tokyo. She was dreaming that Detectives Satou and Takagi had stopped by, talking about enemies and evidence, and she was dreaming that someone had fired at them through the windows of their second-floor home.

It struck her that this was a very bad dream, and she should wake up soon to make her father and Conan-kun dinner. The problem was, she couldn't seem to get her eyes open.

And someone was screaming her name, and it sounded a lot like her father. Ran tried to say something, to tell him to shut up and to stop yelling in her ear, but she couldn't. Oh yeah, she had to wake up first. It was strange; she had to keep reminding herself that she had to get up.

And someone that sounded like -- Detective Satou. She was yelling too, for ambulances and backup, and there was a small crackling sound, like static and voices mixed together. And she was calling Detective Takagi's name, telling him not to talk and to hold on.

But you needed an ambulance when you were hurt, right? Was someone hurt? Was her father okay? Ran felt a little muddled, and tried harder to wake up. She used to be able to wake up from her nightmares. Why was it so hard to wake up now?

And she hurt all over. But it hurt more at her side somehow. It hurt as much as it did when she and Shinichi were eight, and were climbing trees, and the branch she was on broke and she fell screaming to the ground, breaking her arm. But Shinichi had been with her then, had called for an ambulance and called both her mother and father, then his own parents. He had gone to the hospital with her, and stayed with her everyday until her arm healed. And Shinichi had felt horribly guilty, as if he had caused the branch to break.

But how could she feel pain, if she was asleep?

__

Don't feel bad, Shinichi. I'll get better really fast!

Shinichi, where are you?

~ End File 5 ~

Began: August 11, 2002

Completed: August 24, 2002


	6. File 6: Return in Sadness

DISCLAIMER: Gosho owns the others, but Heiji's mine. All mine. Including the baseball cap. Rar. :)

I apologize for how late this installment is. School rears its ugly head. BUT! It's a long one, which I hope makes up for my laziness.

Yes, I've realized that I started out surname last, and switched. It'll remain first name last definitely now, unless there's a specific reason to have it otherwise. Sorry about the confusion. And Inspector Shiratori appears in this file, so remember that this is only accurate up to volume 35, before the Bomber story arc. So he's in good health. Sap and angst warning.

Comments? I like them very very much, even the wonderful 20K letters people were kind enough to send. Thank you!

==========

Veritas

File 6: Return in Sadness

At eight o'clock on Saturday evening, the staff at Beika Hospital were making their regular rounds. The hospital was not a major trauma center, and most of the rooms were full of the usual occupants: cases of tonsillitis, fevers, and the occasional broken bone. Visitors were checking their watches on intervals; evening visiting hours were over in little more than an hour.

People who passed by two closed rooms at the end of a far wing, however, were greeted by a curious sight. A gaggle of (mostly male) police officers were hovering around the hallway, looking torn between worry and rage. A small child and someone who looked like her grandfather were sitting stiffly in the only armchairs at that end of the hall, and a dark-skinned teenage boy was twisting a baseball cap in his hands and leaning against one of the doorframes, as if barring entry.

Other than the hospital announcements blared over the intercoms and the occasional dark mutter among the officers, the hall was silent. Finally, the tanned boy couldn't take it any longer, strode to the little girl and leaned down.

"Did you bring it?"

She looked up at him expressionlessly. "Of course. But he won't want to leave."

"Look, I feel bad about what happened to Ran and the detective too. But the doctor said they'll be fine, and as soon as this is over we'll visit them both." Heiji's expression was dark. "We have to do this now."

"As if I didn't know that," Ai said dryly. " That attack was completely out of character. They tend to be more subtle."

Heiji thought for a moment. "Outside help, maybe?"

"Perhaps. Or they want to end it quickly."

"You're Hattori Heizo's son?" another asked from behind.

Heiji mentally groaned, then turned around. "Inspector Megure? How's Detective Takagi doing?"

The burly officer shook his head. "He'll be out of commission for awhile. And Satou-kun refuses to leave his side." He scratched his head, his hat still on. "She's very distraught."

At that comment, the expressions on the other officers' faces became ominous, though slightly more masked. It was a hospital, after all.

"But that's beside the point." Inspector Megure regarded the boy sternly. "I received a phone call from your father a few hours ago. My orders are to have you taken back to Osaka immediately."

"I'm sorry, Inspector, but please tell my father that I'm sorry for leaving without telling him, but I can't do that right now. I'll be home when I can," Heiji replied firmly.

Megure sighed. "Your father's a well-respected man in the Japanese police, and it would be very compromising for me to disobey. An order's an order, Hattori-kun. I know you want to stay and visit with Ran-kun, so I'll have one of the officers escort you to the train station when the visiting hour's up."

"Yes, sir, thank you," Heiji gritted out. It was pointless arguing; he wasn't sure how much Kudo wanted the public to know just yet.

"I don't know how I got into playing mediator to family squabbles," Megure groused, and wandered off.

"Family squabbles," Heiji muttered. "Right."

"You left without informing your parents where you were going?" Agasa asked, frowning.

"I had to! They would've asked too many questions otherwise."

"They're beginning to ask questions now," Ai pointed out.

"I know that," Heiji snapped. "But none of this was supposed to happen!" He gestured wildly at their surroundings. He lowered his voice. "There isn't even any time to plan. These Organization people are outpacing us."

"Of course they are," Ai said placidly. "Did you expect differently?"

He glared at her. "You're not helping."

She stared back. "I didn't know I was supposed to. I thought I was just the mad traitor scientist who takes the blame for everything."

"Come on now, remember where we are," Agasa reminded them hastily. "There are officers all around you, you don't want them listening in."

At that, Ai and Heiji halted their staring contest with mutual 'hmph's. 

__

Come on, Kudo, Heiji thought silently. _I can't do this by myself._

*

Mouri Ran was sleeping heavily in her hospital bed, her lower left side somewhat bulkier than her right, padded to heal the bullet wound. Conan sat in a rickety chair right beside the bed, feet dangling restlessly, eyes on her sleeping form. Her father was pacing the small hospital room, muttering expletives and wringing his hands.

"How could something like this happen?" he raged, trying not to wake his daughter. "Why? Our home, our life -- when I find the bastards that did this, they're going to pay!"

At those words Conan's mask of young innocence and confusion cracked for a brief instant into the expression of a guilt-ridden young man. In a way, he was one of 'the bastards' that caused everything to happen, for Ran to be hurt and her home to be wrecked, to make her cry when he never wanted to see her sad ever again.

He could still see the bright colors of the police car and ambulance lights dancing on the building Ran and later he called home, the shattered fragments of windows, countertops and vases, the fallen stuffing of couches, the things the officers tried to block him from seeing, that he had fought to see.

And blood on the carpets. His breathing had stopped for a moment at the sight of the red stains, and a torrent of anger and fear had welled up inside him and escaped as the indistinguishable, high-pitched wail of a seven-year old, a frightened little boy. They wouldn't let him see Ran and somehow he knew that the blood was hers. 

Hattori had been at a loss for what to do, wanting to help his friend and being unable to, and knowing that the officers all around them expected him to deal with the matter as one would treat a small child that had just received a terrible shock: So with a mental apology for the humiliation of his equal, he had lifted the small form into his arms and carried him uncomfortably into Detective Chiba's squad car waiting nearby. They had refused to let him ride in the ambulance with Ran. Conan had stared blankly out of the side windows the entire ride to the hospital. And the sirens and the lights and the feeling of slow motion made it so much like a dream, but it wasn't, it was a horrible reality.

He had never hated his seven-year-old form as much as he did now; the feeling of helplessness, of uselessness, of not _being there_. Not the way she wanted to him to be.

And running through Conan's-- no, Shinichi's -- mind were the things Vermouth had told him only the night before: _Live your lie and keep her safe. Follow your principles and sentence her to death._

Was he doing the entirely wrong thing? He had thought he knew the risks of trying to bring down the Syndicate, had accepted them. But he hadn't really known at all. It had only been a dark shadow in the back of his mind, one he had avoided thinking of too deeply.

He was never going to be forgiven for this, by her or by himself. 

Without warning, the hospital room door swung open, banging against the wall and its hinges creaking from the strain. Kisaki Eri stood in the doorway, several officers trying to restrain her and Hattori Heiji waiting inconspicuously behind them all. She was wearing a look of terrified fear, and the moment she saw Kogoro she ran to him, her usual composure lacking. 

"You're safe!" she cried out. "You're all right? What's happened to my child, to Ran?"

"Shhh!" Kogoro hissed wildly, palms on her shoulders. "She's sleeping!"

"I was so worried -- it was on late-breaking news --" Conan had never seen the older woman so shaken before. The guilt, if it was possible, doubled.

"But Detective," an officer tried to explain, "she just ignored the security measures we have on this room -- wouldn't let us stop her --"

"You idiots, she's my WIFE! Get out!"

And amidst the herding and the reassuring and the hushing sounds to shut up lest they wake Ran, Hattori silently beckoned for the small boy to follow him. Conan hesitated for a moment, reluctant to leave Ran, but sneaked out through the commotion without being noticed.

*

There was a knock at the door, and Satou sat up from the bedside chair with a start. "Inspector Shiratori --"

The serious officer closed the door behind him gently, and regarded the bed's sleeping occupant with a nod. "How is he?"

Satou shook her head. "He's out like a light. It's the painkillers. How's Ran?"

"Same condition. She's better off than Takagi is though. Her parents are with her now."

She inhaled, then exhaled sharply. "I'm glad for her. That neither of them has been seriously hurt. The doctor said that Takagi will be much better in two weeks, Ran sooner than that, though it's still too early to tell when they'll be released."

There was a brief awkward silence.

"Any idea who did it?" he finally asked.

"I've been thinking about it this whole time, and haven't come up with anyone." 

"The Mouris don't have any enemies to speak of," Shiratori mused. "All of Mouri Kogoro's criminal cases have been solved, and all the criminals are still in prison. With the number of cases he's done independently and with the police, there could be hundreds of people with a grudge against him."

"Maybe there's a connection between the Osaka girl's disappearance and the attack on the Mouri residence," Satou suggested.

An eyebrow was lifted. "What makes you say that?"

"I haven't the faintest idea." Satou smiled thinly. "I'm just fishing around." Suddenly she clapped a hand to her forehead. "I completely forgot! How is Conan-kun taking all of this?"

Shiratori's frown deepened. "He's upset, as any child would be. Badly traumatized, actually. I saw him in Mouri Ran's room, looking stunned."

"It's good that he wasn't there," Satou murmured. "He's an incredibly aware and mature child, but even he can't be untouched by this." She tried to laugh. "I can't even get over it, and this is our line of work."

"Inspector Megure's thinking of having officers accompany him, in case the threat really is to those associated with Mouri Kogoro. He does have the tendency to wander around and get mixed up in things he shouldn't have anything to do with. Inspector Megure and myself will be keeping tabs on Mouri and his estranged wife -- though the word 'estranged' may not be very accurate anymore." Shiratori smiled faintly. "It was briefly mentioned in passing that he, Conan, and Ran when she's better, will stay with her for awhile."

Satou frowned thoughtfully, then stood from her chair and pulled on her jacket. "Make sure someone stays with both Ran and Takagi."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm going to be the officer responsible for Conan-kun," Satou said firmly. "You can tell Inspector Megure that for me."

"I would think you'd want to stay with Takagi," Shiratori answered.

"Somehow I think that the best way to find out who did this is to stay with Conan-kun."

"Yes, he is perceptive for his age, but he's still a child," Shiratori argued. "If you're sure you want to do this, remember your chances of breaking a lead through him are close to nil. It's child protection."

Satou bristled. "Of course I know that! But I'd rather follow Conan-kun than stay here speculating, while the person who did this got away."

Shiratori eyed her for a moment, then relaxed. "I should have known that you would choose this route. Go on then, I'll inform your supervisors where you went."

"Thank you. I owe you one." Satou beamed at him, then ran from the room.

He watched her leave, then turned to Takagi, who was slumbering heavily in his hospital bed. "You're a lucky guy, Takagi," he said wistfully. Then he grinned. "But I wouldn't want to be in your place when the others hear about this."

*

Heiji carefully closed the door to the men's bathroom behind them, then shoved the wedge of wood under the door to stop people from opening it. Then he turned to address the smaller boy sternly.

"What now?" Conan asked halfheartedly.

"You're going to get a grip," Hattori said firmly. "This is far from over, Kudo. We're going to get Kazuha right now, we don't have anymore time." He looked troubled. "And if you can't keep a straight head, I'll do it myself."

Conan glared up at him furiously. "Yourself! This had nothing to do with you!"

"Now it does and you damn well know it," he shot back. "I can't wait until Kazuha's another hospital patient!"

"There's no way I'm letting you do something so stupid by yourself."

"And doing a stupid thing like this together makes it that much better? Not if you're too busy sulking over Ran to pay attention!"

"Shut up!" Conan's face was red; he was livid. "I wasn't going to back out of anything, all right? We'll get Kazuha and flush out those Organization bastards, and you can stop being a jerk!"

There was a tense moment, and then Heiji leaned back, breaking out into a grin. "That's the Kudo I know! The pint-sized version, at least."

Conan's jaw dropped. "Bwa?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "You were in a guilty stupor. The only way I could think of to get your brain back on track was to annoy you."

"Something at which you're a master," Conan retorted.

"I'll ignore that. Now hurry up, it's almost nine."

"I wish you'd tell me what's going on," Conan said crossly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Idiot, what do you think I'm talking about?" Heiji rustled around his pockets, and produced a small bag. "Here's your first one. The little girl had enough presence of mind to bring it, along with a set of your old clothes." He shoved the bag and the clothes at Conan. "Now get in that stall and change back."

"He acts like it's changing out of a costume," Conan muttered. "When I'm bigger he's going to get it."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Make sure no one's going to come in." Conan gulped, holding the cream seven-day tablet between his fingers and wincing at the remembered pain. "And if you hear me screaming, don't worry about it too much."

~ End File 6 ~

Began: August 25, 2002

Completed: September 16, 2002


	7. File 7: Wine and Fire

DISCLAIMER: If I owned the Conan cast, I'd be rich. Since I don't own them, don't waste the time it'd take to sue me.

The rating on this fic has gone up. You've been warned. And I know this is very, very late. Due to personal issues, computer problems, and other barriers, this and the fic contest had to be put on hold. Work will be resumed on both immediately.

Also, I should have explained this earlier: the word _veritas_ means _truth_ in Latin. (I'm a language freak.) I apologize for the late clarification.

Comments welcome.

==========

Veritas

File 7: Wine and Fire

"They're coming."

Kazuha looked up, her hands bound at the wrists.

"They are coming," the woman repeated, with a slight accent. She adjusted one of her black gloves. "Very soon. Is that not what you are waiting for?"

Kazuha glared at her. "I don't know what you're talking about."  


"Your Prince Charming, _oui_? He is coming shortly." She smiled. "And if things work out as they say, he will bring someone else with him of importance, and your role and his and mine will be complete." 

She stretched languidly, but Kazuha saw that every muscle in the woman's black-clothed body was taut with alertness. The light that came in through the basement's dirty window had faded hours ago, and there was only a small electric lamp on a table for Kazuha to see by. The woman leaned against the table, and she was the only person Kazuha had been able to see to some extent clearly since she'd arrived. The facial expressions were no longer indiscernible, and she wasn't wearing sunglasses or a hat. The thought was somewhat disturbing; the lack of caution her kidnappers were now displaying meant her seeing them was no longer a risk factor. And there was only one logical step from that, and Kazuha stayed away from the thought as much as possible.

"He's not my Prince Charming," Kazuha said flatly. It wasn't a lie. Heiji didn't exactly turn on the charm for her benefit.

"Really? You are not one for fairy tale endings? I always enjoyed them myself when I was younger." The woman fingered the pistol in her hand. 

"How nice."

Looking agitated, her captor flipped her shoulder-length hair past her shoulders, catching the light. Red, Kazuha saw triumphantly. A dark red. 

Somehow, the loss of the woman's cool made Kazuha braver. "They won't come," she said. "I don't know who this person of importance is" (though she could guess, and if she was right she and he would have a nice little _talk_ after this... yes, think of after) "-- but they won't be stupid enough to come without help. And then you'll be trapped in here."

The woman raised a carefully-shaped eyebrow. "Do you really believe that?"

Kazuha hesitated. "Yes," she said firmly. "I do."

"Then you are a fool."

"Who are you?" Kazuha demanded.

The woman frowned. "That is not for you to know."

"It is for me to know!"

"Quiet!"

Kazuha froze. The pistol was trained on her, the safety off. Her captor's hand was steady.

"I am Cognac," the woman said harshly. "That is all I will tell you."

"Cognac," Kazuha breathed. "Vodka, Cognac."

How ridiculously cliche. Alcoholic drinks. If the situation wasn't so serious, Kazuha would have laughed.

A thud on the one staircase sounded and Cognac swung her gun at the doorframe, then cursed in French. Another person also clothed in black stood in the door, hands up in surrender, a mask covering his or her face.

"Never do that!" Cognac said fiercely. "If I had not recognized you, you would be dead now."

"Sorry." It was a man's voice, completely unrepentant and muffled under the mask. "But I have orders to move her to the higher floors."

For a fleeting moment, Cognac's face registered fear. "Why was I not informed directly? I was put in charge of this operation, I should have been the one contacted."

The man shrugged. "How should I know how the higher-ups think?"

"Take her," Cognac said, suddenly toneless. "Cover her face and take her. I will follow shortly."

As the man grabbed Kazuha's arm, for a brief moment she considered her options. She could use her martial arts and get away from him -- but then there'd be Cognac's gun to face, and though Kazuha knew she wasn't helpless, she wasn't sure if she could handle the trigger-happy and tense woman without her hands free. 

Kazuha was a very proud girl, but she wasn't stupid. So she let the man lead her away grudgingly, memorizing every step and turn she took. She could wait a little longer.

When the last of the slow trudge up the stairs was heard, Cognac wiped her brow with a shaking hand. 

*

"You okay?" 

Kudo Shinichi, unknowingly mirroring similar actions taking place on the other side of town, wiped his brow and damned his shaking hand. "I'll be fine in a minute," he said, reveling in the depth of his voice and his old height. It felt great, not having to stretch up to unlatch the bathroom stall's door. But his heart was pounding.

Heiji grinned in relief as his friend stepped out of the stall. The entire transformation had set him on edge. For some reason, he hadn't considered how much it would have to hurt to revert back to an adult form until he had heard the pained shrieks coming from the locked stall, muffled by sheer will and Conan's shirt. 

But really, he told himself, it was the wisps of steam coming from the stall that had freaked him out. Not the pain. No way.

And now Kudo Shinichi was breathing heavily, leaning against the row of sinks and staring critically at himself in the mirror. He tried to flatten his dark brown hair against his forehead pointlessly, then stretched happily and reveled in his old soccer build and strength. His old clothes fit as well as they had a year ago. "Wish I could see Ran now," he said, almost wistfully.

"You'll see her soon, Kudo," Heiji said in his best show of cheerfulness. "This lasts for seven days, remember? She'll be up and around by then, no problem."

"But those will be seven days of tracking down Syndicate members," Shinichi said dully. "It's obvious they're watching her; if I'm supposed to be dead, I can't visit her." His fist clenched in frustration. "It's not fair, Hattori."

A knock at the door to the men's bathroom made both boys jump.

"Conan-kun? Are you in there?"

__

Detective Satou. We are so screwed.

"Why is she looking for me?" Shinichi hissed. 

"Doesn't matter now," Heiji said. He scooped up Conan's clothes, opened the one rectangular window at the far corner of the room, and threw the bundle outside.

Shinichi's eyes narrowed. "Is this the only escape route?"

"Well, yeah. It's not like we can go waltzing out the main door; cops are supposed to take me home soon, remember? And this is the first floor, it's not that far of a drop." Heiji hefted himself onto the window ledge. "Think you can fit through without your pipsqueak body to help you?"

Shinichi answered by shoving his friend out the window, then climbing out himself, remembering to shut the window behind him.

"Conan-kun! Is something wrong?" Praying that there weren't any other people inside the restroom, Satou opened the door.

Empty.

She frowned in confusion. The nurses and other personnel she had asked had been certain that a little boy in oversized glasses and an older teenager had entered the restroom. None had mentioned either one coming out.

"Great," Satou said to the world at large. "I've been on assignment for little more than half an hour, and already I've lost my charge." She could already see the smirks of her fellow officers. Quickly, she ran out of the restroom.

Pressed against the wall directly under the restroom, two teenagers heaved identical sighs of relief. 

"She left." Shinichi's face settled into a grim expression. "Let's go."

*

A reddish-blonde head peeked from a high-floor window. Haibara Ai was standing on a waiting-room chair, watching as the two boys ran from the hospital.

"Did they go? Is Shinichi-kun all right?" Professor Agasa asked anxiously, from his place beside her.

"They're all right." Ai sank down onto the chair. "For now."

*

"Anything?" Ayanami clutched his rifle to him. 

"Nothing." His partner in guarding the side door snorted and tapped his gun impatiently. He peeked outside the door. "I don't know what we're so worried about. They're kids, right?"

"I've heard stories about these ones. They're famous, or something."

"Ha. Fame doesn't mean anything. It's all just --" Suddenly Ayanami's partner pitched forward, dropping his gun and slumping against the doorframe. 

"What the --" Ayanami cocked his gun. It was too dark to see, and he cursed. Then he gasped as he felt a prick on his arm, then fell silently to the ground beside his partner.

"Sleep tight," Shinichi said quietly, hiding behind an old tree several meters away from the Beika Observatory. He pocketed his wristwatch, but not before checking the time. It was too small for him to wear now, but the anesthetic was just as potent.

As the two passed stealthily over the men and into the building, Heiji muttered, "They're gonna wake up with one hell of a headache from that." He remembered his own experience with Conan's stun-gun watch all too clearly.

"You only had a headache because Ran's dad knocked you around." Shinichi smirked.

"I like to think of that as a good thing," Heiji said quietly. "I might never have figured things out about you if he hadn't woken me up early during your little deduction show."

"I always thought it was one of the worse things that have happened," Shinichi said, only half-joking.

"You better take that back --"

"Shh. Where's Kazuha?" Shinichi halted and looked around warily. One of the presentation rooms. Chairs were stacked upside down against the wall, a podium resting on a small curtained stage. It was dark, and the room closed.

Heiji cracked the door open slightly to find a dim hallway lined with display cases and astronomy memorabilia, lit only by the occasional glimpse of the moon through the large windows and the muted light of hallway lamps. "All clear. How am I supposed to know?"

"Great," Shinichi responded sarcastically. "We'll have to search room by room. You find Kazuha, I'll go after the one in charge."

"Good idea. Contact me if you have any problems." Heiji hesitated. "Good luck."

"Same to you."

*

Two flights of stairs. If they came from the basement, that meant that Kazuha was on the second floor. She looked around: another empty room, though much smaller and cleaner than the basement. She had refused to sit this time, and her new guard (the same one who had led her to this room) had only shrugged in response, then posted himself nervously at the door to watch her, fiddling with his gun.

They stood silently for what Kazuha guessed to be an hour. Then there was a small thump from outside. Her guard jumped and instinctively turned to look outside for the disturbance.

Kazuha almost smiled.

He had presented his back to her. Big mistake.

Before he could turn to face her again, she had crossed the space between them and had landed a swift kick to the side of his head. He slammed against the wall, cursing, and swung his arm around to shoot, but Kazuha was ready. Two more kicks sent the gun skidding across the room, and her guard fell in a heap, unconscious.

"I've been waiting to do that," Kazuha said in satisfaction, "since I got here." Picking up the discarded gun was a little difficult with her hands still bound, and Kazuha wasn't familiar with firearms, but she managed and ran out of the room.

Kazuha, remembering where the staircase was, headed toward it cautiously. Then she stiffened at the threshold: a dark shape was coming silently up the stairs. She looked around wildly for a place to hide, and ducked into a thankfully-empty room, peeking through a crack in the door.

The dark form crept slowly up the staircase, and paused at the second floor landing. As if sensing her presence, the form moved closer toward the door to the very room Kazuha was hiding in, then halted.

__

Oh nooo...

Kazuha stood and backed against a wall, then aimed the gun at the door. It slowly opened, and Kazuha opened her mouth to shout a warning. The words caught in her throat.

"Kudo-kun?"

The boy in question grinned at her thinly, closing the door behind him. "Were you going to shoot me, Toyama-san? I didn't think you knew how to use a handgun." 

Her eyes filled with tears. She had only met Kudo Shinichi once before, but the relief of seeing a familiar face was overwhelming. "I thought you were -- Is Heiji with you?"

The grin was replaced by a serious frown. "He was. He's looking for you now."

Kazuha paused, and then the reality of his words struck her. "You idiot!" she said furiously. "Did you come for me by yourselves? That's just what they wanted you to do!"

"What did they tell you?" he demanded.

"Never mind that, we've got to find Heiji!" She grabbed Kudo's arm, then frowned at the handgun at his side. "What are you doing with a gun?"

"It's not mine," he said impatiently. "I took it off one of the guards. Look, I'll show you how to get out of here and how to get to my house, and Hattori will show up there, but I'm not coming with you yet."

"Why not?" she asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Got a few things to do," he said flatly.

"I don't believe it!" she retorted. "You want to go after them! Couldn't we just call the police?"

"We will call the police. Just not yet. But first.." Shinichi pulled out a pocketknife. Catching the look on Kazuha's face he said in exasperation, "It was a present, okay? From my dad for my thirteenth birthday, and I'd promised him I wouldn't use it, and I haven't. At least, not often. You really are jumpy." 

"You try being stuck in this place for who knows how long!" she shot back. "I don't even have a sense of time."

"It's been one morning, afternoon, and evening since your disappearance. It's late evening now, a little past eleven." Shinichi, no matter how literal, sounded weary himself. "But I know what you mean, it feels like a lifetime." He cut the ties of rope around Kazuha's wrists. "Come on, I'll show you the way out."

Kazuha rubbed her wrists gingerly. "No."

"What?" He stared at her. "This isn't a matter of choice, Kazuha-san."

"I don't care, _Kudo-kun_," she said defiantly. "I'm coming with you. So we can find Heiji and get out. Besides if Ran-chan ever heard that I left you alone in this place, she'd be furious."

"And Hattori would hack me into bits if he found out I let you tag along!"

"Tag along! I was handling things just fine before you showed up!"

"Which is why I found you huddled in a corner." 

Kazuha began a quick retort, but the sound of new footsteps coming from down the hall made her clamp her mouth closed and retreat into her spot against the wall. Shinichi crouched behind the door, waiting.

The door jerked open, a black-clothed man stepped in, and Shinichi slammed the butt of his gun into the man's temple before he had a chance to cry out. The man crumpled with a groan, his gun slipping from his fingers to the floor. Kazuha and Shinichi exchanged glances.

"We don't have time to argue," Shinichi said tersely, looking distinctly unhappy. "If you're going to follow me, be careful about it." 

*

Heiji made his way slowly room by room. He had already seen enough star charts to last him a lifetime, and inwardly he wished he'd brought along his katana. But the need for stealth had commanded that he leave it at the Professor's.

He slinked into yet another darkened presentation room. Did the Observatory really need this many presentation rooms? Vaguely he wondered at the number of presentation rooms of the Osaka Observatory. There was no way Beika could have more.

A small thump from a closed room ahead of him made Heiji duck into an adjacent hallway. He listened hard -- voices? No, one voice, foreign and nervous. Heiji paused for a moment, debating, then slowly moved closer and crouched against the door.

The voice was low and harsh. Female. European, most likely. 

"What do you think you are doing?" the woman said angrily. By the muffled sounds of feet on carpet, Heiji guessed that she was pacing. A moment of silence. "I was assigned to take the girl and eliminate the fool detective. I did both. There is no reason for this."

It took all of Heiji's willpower not to barge in triumphantly and corner the woman, but he wasn't an idiot, no matter how often Kazuha proclaimed otherwise. He took out his cell phone, clicked on the recording feature, and held it to the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. He wished he had a better recording device, but this would have to do.

"I admit, I might have overreacted a little, but as long as I carried it out --" (another pause, this time more shocked) "-- but, they are all alive? All of them? Impossible --" (a flustered quiet) "-- just because you have his favor, that does not give you authorization to issue commands to me. I work for him, not you." (a more menacing silence) "Do not test me. It can be finished tonight, under my own direction, and the whole reason you have for staying in Japan will disappear. I have heard about your other... projects... and when he tires of coddling you, you will regret threatening me."

The footsteps were coming closer to the door now. Heiji stiffened.

"... over now. Goodbye. See you in hell, Vermouth."

And then Heiji's phone let out a quiet beep, high-pitched and loud in the stillness of the Observatory.

__

Crap.

The footsteps stopped their movement. There was a second beep as the woman disconnected her own cellular phone line, and a small sigh as the doorknob settled with the weight of a hand on the other side. "Who is there?"

A confrontation with a desperate and probably-armed Black Organization operative alone was not on his list of immediate priorities; at least, not before finding Kazuha. Heiji took off as fast and silently as he could, running down the maze of hallways, left, right, left again, until he ran into a large dimly-lit room. His eyes strained; the room was tiled with lineoleum and littered with scattered round and rectangular tables, chairs carefully upended onto the tabletops. Toward the wall on the right was a scrubbed stainless steel countertop, and behind the counter were several neat rows of cookware and stovetops. The observatory cafeteria, he guessed. Probably the staff one; it was too austere to be used for visitors.

Dodging under the counter, Heiji moved aside the blenders and settled down to check his phone messages. Then he rolled his eyes.

H - 

HAVE K, BUT NO B.O. OP. USE RID, BE CAREFUL.

- K.S.

"Hattori, I have Kazuha, but not the Black Organization operative. Use the riddles, be careful. Kudo Shinichi," he read aloud. "Stupid Kudo; you could've gotten me killed giving me dumb advice."

Irritated, he began punching in a reply. B.O. OP -

The cafeteria door opened before he could type in any more. Praying Kudo would get the hint, he pressed the send key, then Heiji quickly pocketed the phone.

The sound of heels on lineoleum tile echoed through the room. "Who is here? There must be someone here." The foreign woman. "I heard footsteps in this direction." Click, click, click, of her shoes. "You have kept me waiting for a long time. Is it you, Kudo-kun?" 

There was a crash, and Heiji started from his place behind the counter. The woman had shoved one of the tables into a wall with surprising force. "It's not polite to keep a lady waiting. Any Prince Charming knows that."

The sound of her heels was getting louder. Any time now she'd look over the countertop; it was the only real hiding place, and Heiji cursed his stupidity. 

"I had thought you would be here much sooner. The riddles were, to borrow your favorite literary character's phrase, quite elementary. _At night they come without being fetched, by day they are lost without being stolen._ How much simpler can it be? How much we had to lay out for you, just to bring you here to an observatory! Stars, a cute answer to a cute problem. It won't always be this easy, but it was a matter of convenience for us."

There was another crash, this time closer. Heiji winced.

"To be honest, I was expecting more fanfare from the great detectives of the east and west. Where are the marquees, the cops, the photographers? Imagine my surprise in finding two of my agents unconscious at the eastern entrance! Or the news that the girl had run away. I would have failed long ago, if it had not been for your silly ambitions. The swelled egos of slightly-intelligent people can always be counted on." 

A chair squeaked in protest as it was lifted from a tabletop. "Goodbye, great detective."

Heiji leapt over the counter. He finally saw the operative with his own eyes: red hair, dark eyes, a few centimeters shorter than his own height, slim. She had begun to lean over the counter the moment Heiji had sprung out, a chair held high over her head.

He did the first thing that came into his mind, and sent a kick at the chair. It sailed across the room and slammed into a whitewashed wall, cracking the plaster. With the racket the woman made with the tables, this was resulting in too much noise; her slow-witted but better-armed minions would show up any minute. He had to end this fast.

The woman pulled out a handgun, looking incensed. "How dare you!"

Heiji leaned back over the countertop, groping for a weapon of some sort. His fingertips brushed against a handle, and Heiji pulled out a large stainless steel pot. "Damn it -- not exactly what I was hoping for --"

Distracted, the woman shouted with laughter. "You must be Hattori Heiji. Goofball detective of the west and second fiddle to Kudo Shinichi."

"Watch it, lady!" Heiji snapped hotly. "I'm second fiddle to _nobody_!" And with a battle cry, he launched himself at her, brandishing his makeshift weapon.

Calmly, the operative aimed her shot. 

Heiji swung, and let go of the pot.

The woman fired, Heiji threw himself aside, with a flash of metallic orange the bullet slammed into the counter behind him, and in the time it took for the woman to fire that shot the pot connected solidly with her ribcage.

The woman staggered from impact and surprise, and her grip on the gun loosened. Heiji darted forward and wrenched the gun away. Seconds later the operative regained her balance, to find her own handgun aimed carefully at her, mere inches away.

Hattori Heiji grinned at her in triumph. "What were you saying about goofballs?"

The operative was expressionless. "Kill me."

The smile faltered. "What?"

"I said kill me! Do it!"

"Sorry," he said quietly. "I don't do things that way."

"To be defeated by a child armed with a kitchen appliance is disgraceful," the woman said bitterly. "It is over anyway. If you do not kill me, they will."

"Stop trying to make me feel sorry for you," Heiji replied roughly. "I don't. Where are your lackeys?"

"I do not know. But once they learn I have failed, they will run and report me."

"Not very loyal lackeys."

The woman sniffed in disdain. "They are loyal, only not to me."

"Right... You might want to talk a little more. For your own benefit. Who are you? What are your organization's plans?"

She hesitated.

"Look, lady, you say they're going to kill you, right? Well I have no desire to kill anybody if I can help it. You do the math," Heiji said impatiently. Subtly he reached for his cellular in his pocket, clicked on the recording device once more, and turned the phone so the recording piece casually poked out of his pocket.

She frowned in resignation. "My codename is Cognac."

"And you're a French operative," he prodded. "I could guess that."

"Yes. But as to the organization's plans... I was only assigned to take the girl and kill Mouri Kogoro. That is all I know."

"Fine. In other words, you're useless. In that case --"

"I am telling you the truth! That was all I was assigned to do. The rest I have gathered on my own." She pressed her lips together. "There is a war coming."

Heiji frowned. "What war?"

"There is a split, a rebellion. The best agents of the organization are planning a -- a _coup d'etat _against the main body _--_ I cannot think of a similar word in Japanese. They want something, and soon the others will understand, and a war will begin."

"But an underground war will put innocent people in danger, not to mention expose your entire organization. Why --"

"They want something," she said urgently. "I do not know what they are looking for, but the rewards must be greater than the risk, to face execution as a traitor. If I had known, if I had only guessed earlier, I would not have aided them. But I have, and now I am a traitor just like them. And I will face the same punishment."

Without thinking, Heiji said, "We could help you. You don't have to die. There's witness protection and --"

Cognac laughed painfully. "Witness protection!"

The cafeteria door clanged open, causing both people to jump. Instinctively Heiji raised his head away from the woman's to look at the intruder, hand still steady on the trigger. Swiftly Cognac cupped her hands around the base of the gun and over Heiji's fingers. Before Heiji could turn back to face her, she murmured, "Goodbye, detective," and pushed hard with her fingers over Heiji's own. Heiji gasped, but it was too late.

She forced the trigger, and a bullet exploded into her chest.

Kazuha screamed, standing in the open cafeteria door behind Shinichi, and tried to run to Heiji. Shinichi's arm shot out and held her back.

The gun fell on the linoleum floor with a clatter. Heiji stumbled back and turned to face the door. He was covered in blood. He tried to smile, and the expression wavered for an instant before disappearing completely. 

"Hey, Kudo," Heiji said shakily. "Where the hell have you been?"

~ End File 7 ~

Began: November 13, 2002

Completed: April 25, 2003


End file.
